


Buried Desires

by PendingCorpse



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Criminal profiler Will, Eventual Smut, Ezra is the sweetest, F/F, Gen, Hannibal Lecter is a Tease, Hannibal Lecter to the Rescue, M/M, Minor Character Death, Murder, Not Beta Read, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Someone Help Will Graham, Tags May Change, Will Graham Has Nightmares, Will just can't help himself, Winston is so pure, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:08:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29014098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PendingCorpse/pseuds/PendingCorpse
Summary: With a new murderer on the loose, Will Graham is forced to help out Jack Crawford with the case. But when his terrifying nightmares return, he finds himself with nobody to turn to but Doctor Hannibal Lecter.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 14





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my third fanfic on this site, but I hope it will be much better than my previous ones! The ratings and tags may change as I don't have the entire thing planned out yet, but I hope you'll stick around. :)

"Don't forget your reports are due Monday. I expect the best from each of you. Class is dismissed."

Will Graham leaned into his desk as his students filed out of the classroom. He watched them pass by, wanting nothing more to sink his head into a pillow and sleep for a lifetime. He enjoyed his job, and although he had been teaching for about a year now, lecturing for seven hours a day was still something he wasn't accustomed to. His head and throat were definitely experiencing the repercussions. He tossed back the rest of his coffee- which had been cold for some time now- and threw the empty cup into a nearby trash can. 

He walked around his desk and sat down, sinking into his chair and closing his eyes. He soon felt himself nodding off, but didn't make an attempt to get up. A few minutes later, the deep voice of Jack Crawford startled him awake.

"Will! No sleeping on the job. I didn't come all the way down here to watch you nap."

He opened his eyes to look at Jack; his face was flushed and he was out of breath, presumably from crossing the entire building to get to Will's classroom. 

_Please don't tell me he's just here to convince me to work for him again_ , Will thought. 

"I want you to come work for me again," Jack informed him. 

Will sighed and leaned his head back on the chair. 

"Now, I'm being serious this time, Will. Our cases have been increasing, and I want you back on the team before anything bad happens."

Will leaned forward and put his arms on the desk, looking Jack in the eyes. "We've been through this, Jack. I don't want to help you anymore. It's bad for my health."

"But innocent people might lose their lives without you, Will," Jack argued. "You're a life saver. I need your superpowers on my side."

"They're not superpowers."

"Well whatever they are, I need them," he persisted. 

"You _want_ them," Will corrected, "so that when I catch your killers you can show me off like some trophy you worked your ass off for."

Jack narrowed his eyes, ignoring Will's comment. "If it's your health you're worried about, then we'll get you a doctor that knows what they're doing."

"To be honest, I'm more concerned about my mental health than my physical health," Will confessed, suddenly remembering how worn out he was. "Look, Jack, I don't have the energy to argue right now. Given it's not really an emergency, I'd like to have some time to think." Which, in Will's mind, meant he wasn't going to think about it at all.

"Alright, fine," Jack conceded. "But as soon as I need you, I expect you to be there." 

Will watched as Jack left the room. He took a deep breath before standing and collecting his things to go home for the weekend, deciding not to worry about Jack until he absolutely had to. He gathered up his briefcase and jacket, heading out the door and locking it behind him.

*****

The wind howled outside the windows as Will drove home. It was freezing, and there was definitely a storm coming. He made a mental note to stock up on hot chocolate and treats for the dogs this weekend before it snowed.

He pulled into the driveway and parked, already able to hear the dogs' excitement that he had returned. He stepped out of the car, grabbing his briefcase and going up to unlock the door. He was greeted with the pack delightedly rubbing against him and sniffing his clothes. He whistled at them and they collectively moved back, allowing him to step farther into the house to take off his coat and set his things on the kitchen counter.

Will went upstairs to take a long, much needed shower before throwing on a pair of sweatpants and going back downstairs, pouring himself a glass of whiskey and collapsing on the couch. Winston jumped up next to him and sat down, looking at Will and panting. Will smiled and patted his lap, allowing Winston to lay down on top of him. 

Even though he told himself he wouldn't worry about it, Will couldn't help but think about everything Jack had said. He really didn't want to go back, not after what had happened last time. Or rather, every time. Whenever Jack needs Will's help, he always manages to force Will into complying, and each time he has to stop because of the nightmares and hallucinations. 

But on the other hand, Jack had a point. Nobody in the Bureau has his abilities, and he'd already saved countless lives from the killers he's gotten locked up. And since they don't have any extremely important active cases right now, he'd have time to prepare himself mentally for anything that might happen in the future. 

"What should I do, Winston?" Will asked. Winston lifted his head, deciding to give Will a kiss on the nose in lieu of answering. Will chuckled and patted his friend's head. He reached over and downed the rest of his whiskey, setting the glass on the coffee table and leaning back into the soft couch. 

A particularly loud gust of wind suddenly made Winston jump. He whimpered and tucked his nose under Will's arm. "Hey, it's okay, buddy," Will soothed, hugging him close. "It's just the wind."

Winston sighed and leaned into Will, closing his eyes. Will reached over and flicked off the lights, deciding to sleep with the pack tonight. Winston was quite warm, after all.

The gentle breathing of his dogs and the hush of the wind were all Will heard as sleep overcame him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry this first chapter is short, the rest will hopefully be longer. I don't have this entire story planned out yet so I'll be figuring it out along with you all. Thank you for reading!


	2. Crucified

_Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz._

Will's eyes opened groggily as he sat up, recognizing the dull vibrations of his phone. He dragged his arm out from under Winston and reached for the buzzing device sitting on the coffee table. It was Jack.

"Couldn't have waited until I was awake?" Will grumbled into the phone.

"Good morning to you, too," Jack responded shortly. "We've found a body."

Will groaned inwardly. "It's too early for this, Jack."

"I can't decide a killer's schedule."

"I haven't had enough time to think this over," Will protested.

"You can think about it afterwards," Jack replied.

"Can't you get someone else to do it? I've seen plenty of others catch killers. It's not that hard when you know what to look for."

"You are the only one competent enough to figure out what the hell is going on, Will, and you know it," Jack retorted, impatient. "I want you here, now. This isn't just some run-of-the-mill drug addict who got their hands on a gun."

"Just find a new trainee. I'm sure they won't all turn out like Miriam Lass." The second the words fell out of his mouth, Will was filled with regret.

Jack said nothing.

"Sorry. That's not what I meant. Look, I'll be there in half an hour, okay? Text me the address." 

"I'll be waiting," Jack said coldly before hanging up.

Will sighed before setting his phone back on the coffee table. He'd seen this coming, but he hadn't expected it to be so soon. He knew going back to this would bring nothing but restless nights and a barrage of nightmares ready for when he'd actually able to sleep. But what other choice did he have? Continue letting Jack bother him and remind him of the lives that could have been saved?

The wind still roared outside, although it was quieter than it had been last night. A bright ray of sunshine had broken through the thick, grey clouds and was shining through the curtains, highlighting a patch of the carpet where a few dogs lay. The pack was still asleep, scattered around the floor, except for Winston, who was still draped across Will's lap. He ran a hand through Winston's fur, his fingers sinking into the dog's soft pelt. Winston lifted his head and leaned up to lick Will's cheek before promptly sneezing all over his face.

"Gee, thanks, buddy." Winston wagged his tail before standing up and hopping off of the sofa. Will chuckled and stood up after him while the rest of the pack began to rouse. Soon enough they had all congregated by the door, waiting to be let outside. "It's cold out," he told them. They stared at him, unblinking. "Alright, fine." They all flooded outside as he opened the door, seemingly undisturbed by the biting wind that whipped across the yard. He watched as they ran, tripping over each other and rolling around on the grass playfully. _They don't have a care in the world,_ Will thought. _What I wouldn't give to be one of them right now._

He went upstairs to his bedroom, hastily finding some clothes to change into. Going into the bathroom, he tried to freshen up as much as he could with the time he had. Jack was already mad enough with the comment he'd made about Lass- a trainee that had been murdered while under Jack's orders; Will didn't want to upset him more by taking forever in the shower. He splashed some water on his face and put on some cheap cologne. It definitely wasn't the fanciest, but he kept getting it for Christmas and didn't have the motivation to go out in public to find anything better. Taking one last look in the mirror, he decided he look presentable enough and headed back downstairs.

As he went through the kitchen, Will made the decision not to eat anything. Previous experience has proven that having a meal before analyzing a crime scene was not the greatest idea. He called the dogs inside, ordering them to lay down in their beds and not to be reckless while he was gone. Winston licked his hand and Will patted his head before throwing on his coat and heading out to the car, locking the door behind him.

*****

She hung, nude. Her long brown hair was tangled. Her hands and feet were nailed to the cross on the wall. Bloodstains ran down her wrists and arms. Her throat was cut. Her once-emerald eyes were now misty, gazing into nothingness. Will stood beneath her on the altar, looking up at the sight before him. Although it was brutal, he had expected far worse for his first case back. This was almost... tame, compared to what he'd seen before now.

Jack came up behind him. "We haven't yet identified her. We were waiting to take her down until you were able to see it."

"Do you know how long she's been here?"

"We'd say about two days," Jack informed him. "This church doesn't have service on Thursdays or Fridays so our guy probably took advantage of that. Janitor came in this morning and found her. Scared the hell out of him."

Will stood, thinking.

"Well, are you ready to get to work?" Jack inquired.

"More or less," Will sighed.

"Alright, I need everybody to clear the scene!" Jack called to his crew. "I'll be out there if you need anything," he said to Will. Will nodded solemnly. 

And then he was alone.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, a pendulum swinging back and forth, his mind beginning to recreate the scene. When he was ready, he opened his eyes. 

The girl was lying on the ground before him on the altar. He thinks for a moment before speaking. "I leave her alive," he says aloud. "At least, in the physical sense. She's not unconscious, but she's not all present." He stoops down and lifts her from under her arms, pinning her up against the large cross that was mounted to the wall. "Her knees are scraped and bruised. I made her worship me, pray for my blessing... or perhaps for my mercy." Holding her in place with one arm, he took a large nail and placed it in the center of her palm before drilling it in with a hammer. "She squirms beneath me, still able to feel the pain, though she can no longer speak coherently." He switched arms and nailed her other hand to the second arm of the cross. He nails her feet as well, making sure she's steady before stepping back to admire his work. "I leave her hanging like this, naked, exposed. She is at the Lord's mercy. Only He can forgive her now." He heard her make small murmurs, but any words she attempted to speak were lost.

Will watched as blood flowed out of her hands, flowing down her arms, torso, and eventually dripping onto the ground. "To make sure she doesn't survive, I cut her throat, slicing open her carotid artery. Blood spurts from the wound, adding more to the growing pool at her feet. She's dead within minutes." He stares at his reflection in the puddle, the features of his face drenched in the red liquid.

He blinked himself awake from his macabre reverie just as Jack and his crew walked back into the chapel. "Did you find anything?"

Will nodded. "Our killer wanted her exposed. A display of her sin."

"And what sin would that be?" Jack asked.

"I.. I'm not sure," Will said, eyebrows knitting. "But whatever it was, he believed she deserved punishment."

"Playing God?"

"No, this almost feels like.. he's trying to prove himself," Will answered. "Showing that he knows right from wrong, or at least what he sees as such."

"I'll keep that in mind," Jack said. "Thanks for helping us out. You're free to go. I'll call you for anything else we might find." Will nodded and turned to leave before Jack stopped him.

"Oh, and Will? I know you've had troubles with nightmares in the past, and that you're worried about them now." He pulled a small card from his pocket and reached out to give it to Will. "I've asked Dr. Hannibal Lecter if he would be open to helping you out if need be."

Will took the card, Dr. Lecter's name written in small, intricate calligraphy along with his phone number. "Um.. thanks, though I don't really think a shrink is going to help anything. I don't like being psychoanalyzed."

"I'm aware. Hold onto it just in case. Dr. Lecter is the best psychologist in all of the FBI. I'm surprised you haven't seen him before," Jack added.

"I'm sure I've probably seen him in the halls somewhere," Will said. "I'll see you later, Jack."

"Goodbye, Will."

Will walked out the front doors of the chapel and into the cold winter air, the wind still biting at his face. Hurriedly, he made his way to his car. _Still need to run to the store before the blizzard hits_ , he reminded himself. As he drove away from the chapel, he thought about the card Jack had given him. _I've seen one shrink too many, I don't think this one is going to help._ Best in the FBI, _yeah right. I'll just throw it away when I get home._

He made his trip to the store, getting more food and treats for the dogs and more coffee and whiskey for himself. The weather report had said that the storm wouldn't hit for almost another week, but when it did, it wasn't going to be pretty. Will would probably be holed up in his house for a few days. It was something to look forward to, not having to worry about anything except for how much alcohol was left in the fridge. 

He began his journey back home. Just as he turned off the highway, his phone began to ring. Jack again. _Probably need to pick that up._ He quickly answered and put it on speaker, setting the phone on his thigh. "Hello."

"We've run an autopsy on her," Jack said. He had a way of getting right to the chase, something Will appreciated.

"What did you find?"

"We have yet to identify her, still have to run prints and teeth through the database," Jack informed. "But we did find one thing- she was lobotomized." 

Will was quiet for a few moments. "I didn't know those were still in practice."

"They're not."

"Do you know what was used?" Will asked, curious.

"We think it was an ice pick, or a sharp rod. Anyway, I just thought you'd like to know in case it helps with your profiling."

"Well, uh.. thanks," Will said. "I'm just about home. Call me if you need anything else."

"Will do."

*****

That night, Will sat at his kitchen table eating a frozen pizza and drinking a glass of scotch. His mind kept wandering to the girl in the chapel. He was surprised how easily he slipped into the mind of a killer after having left the field for so long. It should probably bother him. Instead he just downed the rest of his scotch and threw his pizza crust to the dogs before going upstairs to take a shower. 

He leaned his head back against the tiles the water cascaded down around him. He felt it streaming through his hair, down his arms and legs. He looked down to see it being sucked through the drain, but instead of water, he saw red. Alarmed, he looked up at the shower head. What was flowing through it appeared to be blood. Blood, pouring all over him and down his body, soaking him with it. His senses were washed with the blood of the girl in the chapel, painting his entire body with it, replacing his own blood with hers. It pooled in his mouth and he began to choke, the taste of iron filling his mouth and suffocating him. 

Will gasped and opened his eyes, leaned back against the shower wall, the water normal again. He breathed heavily as he came down from his hallucination. _Damn it, it's already starting. Fuck._ He finished washing and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist. He looked in the mirror. His face was normal, no blood anywhere. He sighed before going into his bedroom for some clothes.

At half past 10, after convincing himself he was fine with another glass of whiskey, Will went upstairs to attempt to sleep. He tucked himself under his blankets, curling them up around his shoulders. He tried to relax and took a few deep breaths while he closed his eyes. He lay there peacefully for some time before he felt a presence next to his bed. His eyes shot open, scanning the room just to realize nothing was there. The clock read 11:42 PM. He closed his eyes again.

Soon, he heard something rattle the doorknob to his room. He turned his head to look as the door burst open. A tall, black figure quickly came towards him, wielding what appeared to be an ice pick. The figure stopped at the other side of his bed, where a girl now lay next to Will. She was staring up at the figure, crying and pleading.

"Please! I'm sorry! Don't do this, I'm so sorry, _I'm so sorry!_ "

"Now, it's okay," the figure said in a hushed, cool voice. "You won't feel a thing." 

Will sat up, sweating and panting. The room was empty. The woman was gone. There was no figure. 

The clock read 4:29 AM. 

Will got up, shaking, and went into his bathroom. He flicked on the lights, blinding him momentarily. He looked in the mirror; he was drenched in sweat, his curls plastered to his face. He struggled to get his breathing under control, and his chest felt like it was about to explode. "You-you're fine, Will," he said to himself. He didn't believe it. _Why is it so bad already?_ He wasn't prepared for this yet. He turned on the tap and splashed some cold water on his face. Slowing his breathing, he thought about Dr. Lecter's business card. _No way,_ he told himself. _I'm not going to go back to some doctor who thinks they can understand me and give me pills that don't do anything._

 _But what if he's different?_ he argued himself. 

Will shook his head in confusion, too tired to keep up his internal argument. Unwilling to go back to sleep, he grabbed his phone from the bedside table and went downstairs to fish out the card from his coat pocket. Before he could convince himself not to, he typed the doctor's number in. 

_4:38 AM: Hello, Doctor Lecter. My name is Will Graham._


End file.
